


You Are Home to Me

by loves_music17



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Child Abuse, Forced Pregnancy, Hermaphrodites, M/M, Rape/Non-con Elements, sort of mpreg
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-06
Updated: 2016-01-06
Packaged: 2018-05-12 04:03:40
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con, Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 15,004
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5651803
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/loves_music17/pseuds/loves_music17
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>AU fic based on the prompt: He'd been lonely for so long. Now...now he had something that would make him less lonely. Partially inspired by the Dugard kidnapping case and the song Home by Edward Sharpe & the Magnetic Zeroes. Minor pairing Tom Riddle/Harry</p>
            </blockquote>





	You Are Home to Me

He’d thought it was odd at the time that the Dursley had wanted him to come with them to the zoo for his cousin Dudley’s birthday. As long as Harry could remember they’d never considered including him in their family outings. In fact, they avoided interacting with him at all beyond barking chores for him to do or hurling insults. The only physical contact he had was when his uncle boxed his ears for doing something too slow or unsatisfactorily. They didn’t even call him by his given name most of the time and simply referred to him as boy when addressing him. Growing up, he thought that was how all kids like him being raised by their relatives were treated. He sometimes imagined what it would be like if his parents hadn’t died in a car crash when he was a year old, leaving him to the mercy of his only living relatives. It was hard to envision a life for himself where he was happily living with his parents, had friends, was able to do typical kid things rather than being treated like a personal servant. It was all he’d known for a decade after all. 

Besides, he expected he deserved it with his freakiness and all. The Dursleys certainly didn’t let him forget what a freak of nature he was for having both boy and girl parts. 

He’d looked it up at school when he was eight since he was finally able to get books from the shelf by himself. He’d heard Dudley stumble over the word enough as he and his mates taunted him that he knew it by heart. Hermaphrodite. He was amazed his whale of a cousin could even read such a word, let alone manage to say it. He probably heard his parents use the term in hushed whispers as they discussed their burden of a nephew and latched onto it as a future tool to humiliate Harry. He probably hadn’t anticipated his scrawny cousin actually benefiting from knowing the proper term for what he was. After skimming through some books in the library Harry still didn’t know much more about his condition, to his frustration. Basically the gist of it was that people got surgery to make them just one sex so as to avoid becoming social pariahs. 

That didn’t help him much though, since there was no way his uncle would pay for such a thing. First of all, he’d have to admit he was related to such an abomination. Secondly, he already grumbled enough about being forced to take in his wife’s good for nothing sister’s spawn and waste money on caring for him. If making him live in the cupboard under the stairs, giving him his cousin’s ratty, oversized hand-me-downs, making him wait on them all hand and foot, and feeding him table scraps irregularly was the man’s idea of care. Harry certainly never received thanks or acknowledgement for his services. He didn’t even get a present on his birthday or Christmas, unlike his greedy cousin who took pleasure in opening mounds of presents in front of the smaller boy.

Needless to say, Harry was suspicious when his aunt Petunia rapped on his door the morning of Dudley’s eleventh birthday and ordered him to be ready to leave promptly. The only bright side of Dudley’s birthdays usually was the fact that the Dursleys always went out for the day to celebrate at a place of their son’s choosing, leaving Harry locked in his cupboard to lie in for the afternoon. Harry hurried to obey her though, knowing she would expect him to be presentable in a few minutes. He pulled on one of his less ratty shirts, as well as a pair of trousers that had to be cinched with a piece of rope, and trainers that Dudley had worn the toes out of because he used his feet to stop his bicycle. 

When the horse-faced woman yanked the door open shortly after, Harry squinted his eyes against the light that flooded in. Petunia tsked at his dilly-dallying and pulled him out into the open with a fierce grip on his shoulder, which she maintained as she frog-marched him out the front door towards the car. Dudley and his uncle Vernon were already impatiently waiting in the vehicle. Harry clambered into the backseat next to his cousin, a tight fit, and the overweight boy complained the entire way about having to sit next to the freak. His parents cooed from the front, letting him know they were sorry for their precious Dudleykins being forced to share space with the freak. Harry tuned them out, choosing to instead focus on the scenery passing by outside his window. He’d never traveled farther than the downtown square with his aunt when she took him to the local general store for a pair of cheap glasses when his teacher at school insisted he needed corrective lenses. They obviously weren’t going anywhere near the square for Dudley’s birthday though. 

When Vernon parked the car Harry craned his neck to see their destination and couldn’t contain a grin at the large sign for the zoo up ahead. He’d always wanted to go to the zoo. Dudley continued to whine about Harry ruining his birthday until Vernon bought him an ice cream cone from a vendor near the entrance. The lady running the booth looked at Harry quizzically, clearly confused as to why he hadn’t received a treat. To the child’s utter shock she silently handed him a lemon ice and motioned for him to follow his family who were already making their way towards the animal enclosures. Harry happily munched on the frozen goody, the first treat he’d ever had outside of small candies at school. He trailed behind the Dursleys for some time, seemingly forgotten as Dudley obnoxiously declared every animal they passed stupid and/or boring. 

Harry was personally fascinated by all the different creatures, if a little sad that they had to spend their whole lives in a cage. When Dudley announced he wanted to go to the snake house, Harry was just finishing his sweet and turned to toss it in a nearby rubbish bin. When he looked back a moment later, it was as if they’d vanished into thin air. Harry scanned the crowd, trying to locate his relatives. It’s not as if they’d be hard to miss. Before he could become too frantic however, Harry felt pressure on his back and then a painful sting as his entire world went black. 

To the casual observer it would appear as if a man were carrying his son out of the zoo after the boy wet himself, an accident that the Taser in fact caused. No one even considered he was kidnapping the child, and the Dursleys would later claim Harry had run off when he was taken. The only thing that suggested foul play would be the burn marks on the young boy’s back from the Taser used to subdue him, but those were safely concealed beneath his shirt. Once the man had exited into the parking lot he quickly made his way toward an unmarked white side panel van where he deposited his captive in the back. After pulling out of the parking lot and into the London traffic he carefully maintained the speed limit and obeyed all traffic laws, not wanting to attract attention as he drove out of the city limits. 

Roughly twenty minutes later he arrived at his destination, a large manor house on a hill in Little Hangleton, not that far from Private Drive where Harry’s relatives lived. The driver, an older man in his 50’s to 60’s although likely closer to 60, parked the van and walked unhurriedly toward the back of the vehicle to remove his captive. He was tall, with a full head of black hair that hadn’t fled with age and dark eyes though the whites seemed perpetually bloody. He appeared frail but the ease with which he handled the young boy’s weight belied the image he portrayed. 

“Welcome to Riddle House my little Chosen One,” the man murmured to the unconscious child, cradling him against his chest as he made his way up the path to the house.

It was a beautiful home, surrounded by woods and far enough out of the city that the owner was generally left undisturbed. The inside of the home was equally splendid. There were two bedrooms each with its own private bath on the first floor, a living room, kitchen, dining room, and a study on the ground floor, as well as a basement. Each room was decorated tastefully in dark tones and simple textiles, with hardly any knickknacks or unnecessary items to clutter the areas. What was in the rooms however were clearly expensive. 

The man hurried to deposit his burden in the smaller upstairs bedroom. He removed the boy’s soiled clothes before fastening his victim’s wrists in manacles attached to the steel headboard. It offered no slack for the child to move about. The man had invested too much money in his deal with that oaf of a man Dursley to acquire the child just to have him run off at the first chance. He knew given time Harry would come around and realize he was better off with him rather than those despicable relatives. 

He’d fought his urges for many years, making do with street walkers when it became too much to handle, but nothing could compare to sex with a child, innocent and pure, ready to be molded by the adults in their life. Tom had contented himself to mere fantasies and any pictures or stories he could find online. However, one day he’d been perusing one of his usual sites he used for mental fodder when he stumbled upon an ad by a man looking to sell his nephew as a sex slave. Interest piqued, Tom sent an email stating he would like to discuss the proposition further. The reply Tom got stated that the man, Vernon Dursley, had accrued quite a bit of debt gambling the past few years and needed some quick cash. He in-eloquently stated he knew certain blokes were into sex with kids and willing to pay a lot to get them permanently. Tom was practically salivating at the prospect, and when Dursley mentioned he wasn’t asking a very high price for the boy because of his ‘freakishness’ he immediately decided he had to have the child for himself. Tom wasn’t overly choosy about the sex of his partners and the fact that this child would have both male and female genitals couldn’t have been better. 

He neglected to mention to Dursley how much more he would have been willing to spend for that sole reason though. In the end the transaction only set him back a little over 20,000 Euros. They agreed they would complete the deal the next week when the man took his family to the zoo. Tom was instructed to leave the money in a certain locker before taking the boy, Harry. When he’d first laid eyes on the child his heart had swelled in appreciation of his purchase. Dursley had sent a blurry photo of the boy but it did the child nowhere near justice Tom thought. He knew he had chosen well with Harry. It was made even more perfect by the fact that his relatives clearly despised the boy which would give Tom something to work with in currying the boy’s favor. With some training the boy would be molded to best accommodate his every need for as long as Tom desired him.  
As much as he looked forward to breaking Harry in and making him submit Tom relished the thought of the child willingly and actively engaging in sex in the future just as much.

Detective Ron Weasley watched as two patrolmen led an elderly man into the station to an interrogation room. He could barely contain the triumphant grin tugging at the corner of his mouth. After spending the better part of his career, nearly a decade, exhausting leads and evidence trails, he finally had Tom Riddle in his crosshairs. The man had been on the force’s radar since before Mr. and Mrs. Weasley had even conceived Ron. It had started when the man had been labeled as a sex offender after exposing himself to a child in a park, then several years after that he’d done five years in prison for attempting to kidnap a child despite his protests that he simply thought the boy had been lost. After he was released in 1985, he’d been arrested for numerous drug related crimes but nothing seemed to stick to the snakelike man. Then, in the early 90’s he apparently disappeared into thin air, none of his former contacts knew anything about his whereabouts. Tom Riddle continued going to work for the antique business he’d been employed at since he graduated from school, and for all intents and purposes was a model citizen. That had raised much suspicion from the police since they suspected his recreational drug use was the only thing keeping his lecherous urges for small children at bay. So, fresh out of the academy in 1997 at the tender age of 18, Ron was first introduced to Tom Riddle after stopping by to check on the man as part of the conditions of Riddle’s probation. 

He had tracked down the older man at his childhood home out in the English countryside. Ron hadn’t been briefed on his proclivities prior to the visit; his superiors later told him it was so they could not only test his eye as a promising detective but also to get a fresh perspective on the case. They’d spent so long investigating and tracking Riddle’s every move so they could catch him at the first hint of him returning to his old ways. They were beginning to believe the man had perhaps reformed and if Ron didn’t report anything negative had intended to close the case.

Ron can still recall the feeling of unease that had overcome him as soon as Tom opened the door a fraction to peer out at the ginger detective with cold, hard eyes. 

“Yes?” he’d questioned without opening the door further.

Ron may have been new but even he could tell the man was hiding something, “Mr. Riddle, my name is Detective Weasley. I’m here to do an inspection based on the terms of your probations. Would you mind letting me in, sir?”

Tom’s eyes raked over Ron for a long minute before he apparently deemed him to not be a threat, his first mistake in Ron’s opinion. He made a feeble excuse about picking up a little before slamming the door in Ron’s face. Ron strained his ears to pick up any sounds from inside the house but heard nothing through the heavy wooden door. When Riddle finally allowed him entrance to the house Ron brushed past him to survey each room downstairs, hoping to find something the man had overlooked but found nothing. 

“Anything I can help you find, Detective?” the man casually inquired. 

Ron ignored him and headed for the stairs leading to the first floor. Tom trailed behind him quietly as Ron investigated each room. When he came upon a room that held nothing but an unmade bed, a sink and toilet, and some children’s toys strewn across the floor he raised a questioning brow at the man. 

Tom shrugged, “I had some relatives over for a visit this week. They had children but I am allowed near children that are my kin as long as their parents are present. Unless that rule has changed, Detective?”

Ron bristled, his instincts telling him it was a lie but he had no proof to arrest the man. He continued searching the upper rooms but found nothing out of the ordinary. He was finally forced to acknowledge he was not going to find anything and left the premise with a very smug looking Riddle bidding him farewell. When he reported his findings to his superiors they were less worried about the mysterious guestroom than Ron thought they should be. In fact, when they revealed they were planning to stop the investigation Ron vehemently refused much to the shock of the other officers. 

That is how Ron came to be the lead detective on the Riddle case and how his mission to outsmart the pedophile became his top priority. It took a decade to do it but Ron was confident today was the day it would all end. He’d gotten an anonymous tip from a local resident that reported seeing Riddle out with two young girls eating ice cream. Although Riddle’s record stated he preferred boys, Ron knew some child molesters would switch it up if they became desperate enough. Ron had made the call to have Riddle brought in for questioning immediately. Tom had been led into the station in handcuffs but looked as calm as if he was taking a stroll through the park. Ron had interrogated him relentlessly for over an hour about the unknown children. Tom never cracked; instead he spouted some story about how they were the daughters of his niece who was visiting him. Ron refused to believe it until an officer came to report a young woman was there asking about her uncle Riddle. Ron had left the interview room to find a girl nervously perched on the edge of a plastic chair in the waiting area. She had long black hair down to her petite waist and was wearing clothes obviously meant to conceal her pregnant form while two young girls played on the floor in front of her with tattered dolls. She visibly flinched when Ron spoke to her as he took up the seat next to her.

“Miss, are you the one here for Tom Riddle?”

She nodded minutely, not even turning to meet the detective’s inquisitive gaze, focusing all her attention on the girls Ron would bet were the same two Riddle had been spotted with. 

“So how do you know Mr. Riddle?”

The woman fidgeted, stalling in making a verbal response until Ron moved to place a hand on her shoulder and she jerked away almost violently. 

“He’s my uh-uncle, sir,” her voice seemed hoarse from lack of use Ron thought and unsure in her response, making him question the truth of the statement. 

“And what is your name, Miss?” 

She finally looked up at him, her emerald green eyes appearing wild in her panic, “Please, sir, can I just get my uncle and take my girls home?”

“I have some things to discuss with you first, miss, and I’d really appreciate your cooperation. So, your name?” he prompted.

“Uh, it’s, um, Li-Lily…”she replied haltingly. 

Ron nodded encouragingly, “Alright, Lily. Do you have the same last name as your uncle?”

She seemed relieved that Ron had asked her something she could get by nodding at and did just that, as her girls clambered up into her lap with a stoicism not usually associated with small children. They each had the same black, perpetually unkempt hair as their mum but their eyes were dark as coal, uncannily reminding Ron of the man waiting in the interview room. The resemblance struck the detective as odd and a sinking feeling formed in his gut at the implications. 

Turning his attention to the children he spoke to them in a gentle tone, “Hullo, girls. Those are nice sweaters you’re wearing. Did your mummy make those for you?”

Lily clutched them closer to her as if to shield them from Ron but did not speak up against his questioning. In fact her eyes got a faraway glaze to them as if she was used to her daughters being addressed against her wishes and had learned to ignore it. 

The girls eyed him warily as the bigger girl nodded hesitantly.

Ron smiled, hoping to convey his harmlessness to all three of them and said, “My mum makes me jumpers too, every year for Christmas. My name is Ron. What’re your names?”

The bigger girl moved so that she was in front of her younger sister and mother, a show of confidence that even her mother had been unable to exhibit so far, and said in a voice that belied her nervousness, “I’m Lily and I’m 14 and a half. This is Jamie, she’s 11. Where’s Da-Uncle Tom? Why did you take him away?”

Ron rocked back in his chair at the age of the girls. There was no way the young woman had given birth to these children. She looked to be in her late 20’s, which would mean she would have been a child herself when she had the girls. Something clicked in Ron’s brain at that thought but he dearly hoped his suspicions were proven wrong. If Ron was correct, that would mean Tom had impregnated the elder Lily with not one but two children before Ron’s initial visit to Riddle House, and had recently done it again. It made him ill to think about how long the woman had been with her captor if that was the case. 

Ron looked back up at the girls’ mother, his voice shaking as he said, “Miss, is there anything you would like to tell me?”

Lily looked ready to bolt at any second, her girls picking up on her distress and beginning to cry. She stroked their shoulder-length hair soothingly, but refused to look at Ron as she shook her head in the negative at the question. She moved to hide her face in Jamie’s hair, blocking out the detective. 

Ron persisted, more sure than ever he was on to something, “Please, Lily, I can help you. You’ll never have to see Riddle again. More importantly, your daughters will be safe. I know you’re worried about them.”

“My name isn’t Lily,” her words were muffled by Jamie’s hair but Ron was able to decipher them, “It’s Harry.”

Ron frowned, thinking he must have misheard, “Pardon, did you just say your name is Harry?”

Lily, now Harry, nodded nebulously as he said, “Girls, will you go get me a glass of water from the fountain?” 

The girls jumped to obey the request and scampered down the hall in search of water.

Harry turned to fully face Ron for the first time since they met, his posture stiffening from the meek housewife to a jaded man in women’s clothing. The transformation was startling to witness. 

“My name is Harry James Potter. I was kidnapped when I was 11 years old by Tom Riddle. He kept me hostage in his house for years where he raped me daily,” Harry said in a detached tone.

Harry can still remember those early terrifying moments when he first awoke in his new room at Riddle House, handcuffed to the bed and completely naked. Tom had kept him shackled to the bed for the first week at all times except when he let Harry up to use the loo in the corner under his watchful gaze. He only looked during that time but Harry could see in his pitch black eyes what kind of monster he truly was. The second week Tom manhandled a petrified Harry into the shower down the hall where he forced himself in with the young boy. His hands roamed over Harry’s body hungrily, his possessive grip leaving bruises in their wake and making Harry cry out in pain. After that debacle Tom quickly moved Harry back to his room where he replaced the handcuffs over Harry’s raw wrists. Then he took Harry anally for the first time, with no preparation or consideration for his partner. Harry screamed himself hoarse and would have cried if he wasn’t so dehydrated. Tom left him bloodied and broken that night, curled into himself under the thin, stained sheet as he recalled all the horrible things Tom had called him as they had sex. Sure, his relatives were pretty nasty to him, but it was so much worse hearing it as he was raped, like it made it truer or something. 

Time passed slowly for Harry after that. He had no way of tracking how long he’d been with Tom other than how many times the man raped him, either anally or vaginally. He forced Harry to use his mouth and hands sometimes but Harry almost welcomed the reprieve for his battered body. Tom didn’t use condoms, so often Harry was covered in the remains of their coupling which Tom seemed to enjoy. At least he let Harry wash away the grime once a week in the shower, one of the only highlights to Harry’s captivity. The Dursleys were much stingier in letting him use the shower, said the hose in the backyard was sufficient for a freak like him. They were even worse about feeding him, and he was lucky to get to eat more than a couple times a week. If he messed up his chores or upset his relatives they often withheld food for weeks at a time. Tom wasn’t much better Harry admitted, his idea of a meal was usually fast food but Harry wasn’t complaining since the man remembered to feed him on a regular basis. If he made Harry ‘perform’ for his food, it was a small price to pay for sustenance. Other than that Tom usually left him to his own devices since he said he was busy with work. At night though, the man would force Harry to do the most degrading things a person could imagine as he acted out his sexual fantasies with the hermaphrodite. 

The worst was when Tom wanted to act like they were real lovers so he went out of his way to ensure Harry received pleasure and climaxed. A close second to that was when Tom acted remorseful for kidnapping and raping him, sometimes crying and pleading for forgiveness. In both instances Harry would beg for Tom to let him go but Tom refused. He said taking Harry was the only way to make sure he didn’t hurt other children, so he had to keep him. Over the years Harry grudgingly accepted his role in Tom’s life. He understood Tom’s reasoning even. If not him, some other poor kid would be suffering and it’s not like Harry had anything going for him in his previous life. To be honest, he probably would have keeled over under his relatives’ care if he’d remained with them. Only after Tom was convinced Harry wouldn’t run away did he let Harry roam the house freely but he was still unable to venture outdoors. 

Everything changed when Harry started getting sick for no apparent reason. Tom was worried his toy would die and brought in a trusted friend who had been kicked out of medical school for unethical conduct with a fellow student. He was informed of Harry’s condition as a hermaphrodite and his strange illness. He quickly assessed the situation and proclaimed Harry was pregnant. It was a tossup who was more shocked, Harry or Tom. Neither had thought it possible for the male identifying youth to bear children. He didn’t have a menstrual cycle or breasts. His only female part seemed to be a vagina. But after an at home pregnancy test their suspicions were confirmed, Harry was indeed pregnant. Tom’s friend estimated that Harry was about a month along. After the revelation Tom was much more conscientious of Harry and the baby. He no longer fed Harry fast food and instead he let Harry cook actual meals for them both, a skill he’d retained from his time with the Dursleys but Tom had no interest in previously. He also moved Harry into his own bed, his excuse being that it would be more comfortable and he could use the attached loo whenever he needed it. Harry felt spoiled from all the new luxuries Tom gave him. The best part was that Tom was so concerned for the baby he didn’t want to risk a miscarriage by having sex with Harry so the boy was unmolested for over nine months. Harry was amazed the child made it to term, considering Tom refused to take him to a doctor lest he be discovered. Harry remembers the morning he woke up in the wet spot in the center of Tom’s bed, thinking he’d wet the bed. He’d been ashamed of himself and hurried to strip the bed of all the covers to wash them before Tom returned home from work. He had noticed persistent pains in his nether regions but didn’t consider it overly much. 

It wasn’t until Tom had returned, they’d eaten dinner, and Harry was sitting on the loo in their restroom in terrible agony. Then in an instant he felt something splash into the toilet bowl and a bereft feeling in his stomach. He stood to look at what had fallen in only to see a small, squealing baby in the bloodied water. At Harry’s horrified screams Tom rushed in to see what the commotion was and spotted the baby in the toilet. He quickly scooped up the child in a stray towel and checked to ensure it was unharmed from the fall. Once he was satisfied it was alright he thrust it into Harry’s numb arms and hurried to prepare a bath to wash away the gunk from mother and child. Harry recalls Tom murmuring that their daughter needed a name and Harry’s first thought was of his mother, who he knew little of other than that her name was Lily. So that is how their first child came into the world when Harry was barely 13. Tom was obsessed with his newborn child and fussed over her constantly, mostly just to badger Harry about how the teen was caring for her. Harry had no experience with babies but found his maternal instincts kicked into overdrive where Lily was concerned. 

Once Lily was a few months old Tom deemed Harry ready for intercourse again and Harry returned to mostly the same routine he’d had before the baby was born. Tom had become fixated on the idea of a female partner though and Harry was no longer allowed to refer to himself as male or use his given name. Instead he took up the same name as their daughter and Tom gave him women’s clothes to wear around the house and in bed. Harry grew accustomed to this just as he had everything else Tom subjected him to over the years. When it came down to it Harry would choose cross dressing over Tom’s more sadistic games any day. Since Harry had been unable to cut his hair during his time with Tom it came to the middle of his back and in his new feminine clothing Harry was a passable preteen girl. Tom felt confident enough in the disguise that he took Harry and Lily out to the city for an afternoon at a park. It was the first time Harry had set foot outdoors in over three years. It was by far the best day of his entire life. He didn’t even care he was there with a man against his will, lying on the grass with his daughter was totally worth all the pain. He'd been lonely for so long. Now...now he had something that would make him less lonely. 

For Harry’s 16th birthday Tom gave him the gift of another wonderful daughter which Harry named Jamie in honor of his father, James. Tom was more prepared for their second child’s birth and she was delivered from the comfort of the couch with towels and water on hand as Tom coached Harry through the pain. Tom was less worried for the safety of Jamie considering Harry had, had a lot of time to practice with Lily. This meant Tom gave Harry less time to recover and barely two weeks passed after the birth before Tom was demanding sex from Harry again. At first Harry tried to play up his fatigue from the birth but this only frustrated Tom to the point that he wouldn’t take no for an answer and raped Harry in front of their three year old daughter and her newborn sister on the bed in the room Tom had kept Harry in when he first brought him to the house. He’d partially converted it into a nursery after Lily was born but the bed, sink, and toilet still remained with the addition of a crib and changing table. Harry will never forgive himself for allowing his girls to witness such a thing and at that moment he decided he would never fight Tom again. 

The years passed more quickly with two growing children in the house. Between taking care of the girls’ needs, Tom’s needs, and completing his household chores Harry felt more than a little stretched thin. He sometimes wondered what it might have been like to live a normal life where he went to school, made friends, had dreams. He usually didn’t let himself dwell on it though. It wasn’t like he didn’t love his daughters; they were the only thing that kept him going after so much time in captivity. He knew there had been some people coming round to check on Tom since he was on probation but the man made it painfully clear what would happen if Harry made his presence known during the routine inspections. In his heart Harry knew it would be pointless to expose Tom anyway. He was a hermaphrodite who’d birthed two children with the man. Who would believe someone would kidnap such a freak? Sometimes it was nice to fantasize however. He only allotted himself a few minutes to do so at a time since there was much work to be done and very little time to do it before Tom was home from work, expecting dinner to be cooked, his girls waiting to greet him at the door, and Harry ready to service him. 

Then Harry became pregnant for a third time nearly 16 years to the day since Tom had kidnapped him and he felt his usual relief in anticipation of his reprieve from sex with the man. To his immense displeasure Tom had no intention of giving up sex this time around, so sure was he that it wouldn’t harm their child. For the first time in a decade Harry found the courage to defy Tom as he attempted to put his foot down about the matter. Attempted being the key word, because Tom squashed his captive’s hopes with a harsh ultimatum: either Harry had sex with Tom or he’d go to their eldest daughter to satisfy his needs. Really there was no choice to make when it came down to it. He’d do anything in his power to avoid the girls going through what he’d endured during his childhood. So he continued to have sex with Tom even when his entire body was throbbing in pain from carrying his child and spending the day working like a dog. He began to worry though about the safety of Lily and Jamie. Tom doted on them like any loving father except for when he was in one of his moods and barked at them to leave him alone. Occasionally Harry caught him staring a bit too intently at the girls for his liking and was reminded of just how Harry came to be in his current living situation. He would find a way to kill Tom himself before he let him touch a hair on either of his daughters’ heads. That is how he came to devise a plan to have Tom brought down. He waited patiently for five months for the perfect opportunity. 

He got his chance when Tom took the girls out for ice cream one day. Harry rushed to the phone to dial the local police tip line, knowing Tom had his phone number blocked so no one would be able to trace it to the house. He hinted to the operator that he was a concerned citizen who knew of Tom’s record as a child predator and had witnessed him out with two little girls in town. When they asked for his identity Harry simply hung up the phone. He knew he was taking a gamble since it was possible Tom would check the call log or spot it on the phone bill but Harry hoped Tom continued to assume he’d broken Harry of any hope of escape and wouldn’t suspect anything was amiss. He hadn’t thought much beyond getting Tom arrested, but as he sat in the police station with his beautiful girls he knew he had to expose Tom for the monster he was, to Hell with what became of him, as long as his Lily and Jamie and their unborn sibling were okay. 

But when Detective Weasley began questioning him, assuming he was female even, Harry froze in panic. He didn’t know what to say, how to confess everything that had been done to him for the past 16 years. His biggest fear was that no one would believe him and he would expose himself to Tom for nothing. He also didn’t want the girls to have to hear any of the gruesome details about their father. Although they were wary of the man when he was in a foul mood they loved him dearly and Harry never begrudged them for that. He would give anything to have known his own parents, even if they were drunkards like his aunt and uncle claimed. Harry quietly asked if there was a room they could go to discuss things and someone to look after his daughters. Ron readily agreed, although clearly still confused at how two men could conceive children. Soon a female officer came to escort the girls on a tour of the small precinct while Ron led Harry to a private interview room, careful to avoid the one where Mr. Riddle was being held. 

Once they were seated, Ron shot off a volley of questions but Harry shrank into himself again, whatever nerve he’d worked up to speak with Ron before vanishing in the face of such invasive questioning. Ron offered a pad of paper and pen so that Harry could write his story down and Harry gratefully accepted the compromise. He painstakingly wrote down the details of his years as Tom’s sex slave, including his condition as a hermaphrodite which made it possible for him to become pregnant. By the end of it he’d used two entire pads of paper and over three hours had passed. Harry had even skirted around some details that he was too scared to think about in his own mind, let alone confess to a total stranger. There were some things that he would take to his grave. The information he’d provided already was surely enough to convict Tom, he reasoned. 

As Harry finished each page Ron would take it to read over, looking greener by the minute as he learned of what had transpired in that house. Harry’s face was streaked with silent tears which he carefully kept from smearing the ink on the pages, knowing his trembling hand was making his handwriting nearly illegible as it was already. When he was finally finished his hand ached, not to mention he had a splitting headache, but felt hope for the first time since before he could remember. Ron collected all of the papers, using the time to compose himself as Harry sat nervously wringing his hands. 

“Harry,” Ron said softly as he placed a reassuring hand over Harry’s own on the table, ignoring the flinch it caused, “Harry, everything will be alright, I promise. With this statement, we’ll be able to shove Riddle in the deepest, darkest cell in Scotland Yard and throw away the key.” 

Harry nodded jerkily, “I hope so, sir. What will happen to my daughters and me, though, sir?”

“You’ll be safe as houses, mate. We can get you in contact with your family. You didn’t mention Tom providing any schooling for the three of you so maybe you can start there,” Ron said.

Harry sighed, “Sir, I highly doubt that will be possible. My relatives were little better than Tom, and I have no money to fund the girls to go to school. I don’t even have a home.”

As Harry realized how bleak his prospects were he was overcome with anguished sobs, startling the detective who uncomfortably wrapped a supportive arm around the man’s shoulder. Harry buried his face in Ron’s neck, seeking whatever comfort he could find after having none his entire life. 

“Look, Harry, I know it seems bad right now but things will work out, you’ll see. If you need help getting back on your feet, you’re welcome to stay with me at my flat for a while,” Ron offered, even though he knew it went against every rule they’d taught him at the academy. 

Harry looked up at him with such a miserably lost expression Ron couldn’t bring himself to care about the rules, “You can find a job and get the girls enrolled in classes. You’ll need to brush up on some things; you’ve been out of the loop for a bit after all. I can help you.”

Harry pulled back, wary of the offer after being burned so spectacularly, “And what would you require in return, sir?”

Ron huffed, “Well, for starters you can call me Ron and drop this sir rubbish. Other than that I don’t expect much. Maybe help me clean up around the flat. It’s been a while since it had a woman’s touch. Not that- I’m not implying you’re- Anyway, I’m easy enough to live with as you’ll see.”

Harry was still clearly uncertain why a stranger would offer some bloke he’d essentially just rescued from a madman a place to stay, “What about Lily and Jamie? We’re a package deal. I won’t leave them!”

Ron put his hands up in a placating gesture, “I never said you’d have to Harry. They’re your kids; of course they’d be welcome as well. I grew up in a house with five older brothers and a younger sister so I’m used to having a full house.”

Harry nodded, satisfied no one would try to take his girls, and said, “So what now, then?”

Ron stood up before extending his hand for Harry to help the pregnant man to his feet, “I’ll get your statement to my superiors and they’ll begin the legal process of reading Riddle his rights and booking him. Then I’ll take you and the girls back to my flat to get you settled.”

The pair made their way out into the hallway where Ron made his way to his boss’s office to give his report while Harry went to collect Lily and Jamie. When they reconvened Ron was in civilian clothes, chatting with a fellow officer. Just as Harry moved to meet him a commotion behind him caught his attention and he turned to see Tom being dragged from the interview room Ron had kept him held in, cursing at the officer leading him away in handcuffs. 

Tom spotted Harry and his daughters and started yelling loud enough for the entire building to hear, “You fucking whore! I chose you! Who else would love a man with a cunt, you backstabbing bitch, huh? You’ll pay, oh, you’ll pay. I will have my girls back and see you dead, Potter.”

Harry jerked away from the hands that grasped his quivering shoulders, unaware it was only Ron coming to his aid. The ginger ordered Tom to be taken away as he carefully guided Harry and his distraught children out of the building. Harry was still shaking as Ron deposited him in the passenger seat of his car, a turquoise Ford Anglia. Lily and Jamie clambered into the backseat with minimal prompting, content to follow their mother. When Ron pulled into the car park outside his building, Harry continued staring listlessly out the window until Ron opened the door to help him out of the automobile. Harry walked as if in a daze, like he didn’t truly believe it was all over finally. Ron ushered him into his flat along with the two girls, directing them to the living room to relax while Ron prepared tea. 

When he came back into the room with a tray laden with tea and chocolate biscuits his mum had sent him, he found Harry asleep on the couch with Lily and Jamie curled up beside him. Ron settled into the armchair with his cuppa and watched the trio sleep peacefully. He still wasn’t entirely sure what he’d gotten himself into but knew he’d made the right choice bringing them here. He finished his tea and booted up his computer in the corner of the room. He spent some time researching local schools for the girls, printing out some information to share with Harry after the man had rested, along with sending an email to a psychologist who was an old friend that specialized in helping abuse victims. After that it was past midnight and all the excitement of the day had left him exhausted. He’d planned to give his bed to the family but didn’t have the heart to wake them. He could take it for the night he supposed as he moved to get ready for bed. He didn’t work the next day so he decided it would be prudent to take Harry and the girls out to see London. From what he’d gathered none of them had really ventured into the city. Perhaps he could get them some clothes and other necessities considering they’d left Riddle’s house with nothing but the clothes on their backs. He may not make much on a detective’s salary but he could at least get them the basics.

The next morning Ron awoke to the most blissful sensation. He couldn’t place what it was at first but as he slowly became more aware he realized it was centered on his nether regions. He struggled into consciousness only to discover Harry at the foot of his bed, sucking the detective’s cock like his life depended on it. Ron yelped in a rather unmanly fashion as he hurried to push Harry off his prick. Harry scurried back to the edge of the bed, his eyes wide in shock at being stopped. Ron couldn’t help but notice Harry wasn’t wearing any clothes, or his flaccid penis. Ron dragged a hand over his face, thinking it was too early to deal with this shite. He wasn’t angry at Harry he knew, but Tom Riddle. If the bastard were standing in front of him now, Ron would gladly throttle him for so thoroughly screwing up Harry’s mind. 

“Mate, what are you doing? I thought you understood I don’t expect any sexual favors from you,” Ron said as he got up to pull on pants and jeans, made difficult due to his erection. Harry pulled his knees up to his chest, the position awkward with a pregnant belly but it made him feel less vulnerable. 

His voice was pitched to less than a whisper as he said, “Tom always said no really means yes and he liked me to wake him up with a blowjob. I thought maybe you’d like it as well, sir.”

Ron sat down on the edge of the bed so he could take Harry into his arms. He rubbed circles along the man’s back as he cooed words of comfort in his ear. After a few minutes Harry gradually relaxed into the embrace, taking solace in Ron’s strong arms that seemed like they could protect him from anything. 

Ron tilted Harry’s face up to look him in the eye, “I meant it when I said you don’t have to do that. You’re free to choose who you want to have sex with now. Hell, if you never want to have sex again, that’s fine as long as it’s your decision. Alright?”

Harry nodded shakily in the affirmative, which was enough to satisfy the detective. Even if Harry secretly still didn’t fully get the concept that he could make choices now, it was a start. 

As Harry stood to dress as well Ron noticed the pile of Harry’s clothes on the floor for the first time. There was a baggy red sweater that looked homemade like the children’s and black sweatpants along with a pair of lacey, green women’s panties, which made Ron blush to the roots of his hair. Harry didn’t seem to mind wearing them, slipping them on as gracefully as a woman used to wearing such things. Ron forced himself to avert his eyes from the bulge Harry’s admittedly small yet adorable penis made in the front of the underwear. After Harry was fully dressed again Ron had composed himself enough to look at the other man without wanting to ravish him. It was no secret that Ron swung both ways, although he’d never found a man that made him feel the way Harry had managed to do in such a short amount of time. The fact that he was a hermaphrodite wasn’t even an issue in the ginger’s mind. Ron knew that Harry was quite possibly too damaged to ever pursue a relationship with so he would push any non-platonic thoughts about his guest into a heavily locked mental trunk. 

“Are Lily and Jamie still sleeping?” Ron enquired, hoping they hadn’t seen Harry enter the bedroom. 

Harry nodded absently as he tugged on the frayed hem of his top, “Yes, sir- I mean, Ron. I was going to fix breakfast for everyone after I took care of your needs this morning.”  
Ron ignored the mention of his needs, “I’d tell you to leave breakfast to me since you’re the guest but I’m rubbish at cooking. How about I assist you?”

Harry managed a tiny smile at the detective, “That’s alright. I’ll take care of it. I work better alone anyway. Thanks for offering, though.”

Ron shrugged, accepting Harry wanted his space, and led the way out of the bedroom to the living room where the girls continued to doze. Harry disappeared into the kitchen, leaving Ron alone with his children. Ron couldn’t help but admire the little girls’ bravery in such a Hellish situation. He hoped the statement Harry had provided was enough for the judge and the case wouldn’t go to trial. Ron wasn’t sure Harry was strong enough to relive his ordeal and he would surely want to keep Lily and Jamie out of the proceedings. His thoughts were derailed by the intoxicating smell coming from the fours plates Harry had precariously balanced in his arms as he approached. Ron hurried to relieve him of half of his load as Harry distributed the other two plates to his daughters who’d awoken without Ron noticing they’d been so unobtrusive. Harry and Ron both settled down with their own food and the group ate in silence save for Ron’s initial praise of Harry’s cooking which would give his mum a run for her money. As they were finishing Ron brought up the subject of going shopping. 

Harry squirmed in discomfort, “It’s very thoughtful of you, sir- uh, Ron, but Tom controls, or that is, controlled the funds so I really can’t afford-"

Ron interjected, “I don’t expect you to pay for anything. I’m more than willing to cover the expense.”

Harry shook his head, “That’s not necessary, really.”

“But, Ha-,” Ron said before Harry placed a finger over his lips to stop Ron from speaking his name. 

Harry gave Ron a significant look before cutting his eyes over to the girls, Lily distractedly braiding Jamie’s hair. Ron’s eyes widened as he realized Harry had been ‘Lily’ to the girls their entire lives, not Harry. 

“Lily,” Ron stressed the name, “I insist. You will all need clothes and toiletries while you stay here.”

Harry sighed, “There must be a thrift store or general store where we can shop at least.”

“It’s not a problem. We can go to the mall. I’m sure the girls would love to stop by the toy store too. Now, I’ll clear away the dishes and we can be on our way,” Ron said, retreating to the kitchen before Harry could protest further. 

Ron had forgotten how hectic the mall could be on a Saturday afternoon. He’d also underestimated how distressing it would be for a family who’d spent most of their lives inside that bastard’s house of horrors. Even Harry had not been around many strangers before he was kidnapped. That is why Harry was clutching Ron’s arm in a death grip while Lily held onto her mother’s and sister’s hands. Ron steered them to a less crowded area where he knew there was some nice clothing stores. As they entered the first store Ron was unsure if he should lead them to the men’s or women’s section. Harry’s eyes strayed to the female clothing and Ron guided his group to that side of the store. Harry was less interested in picking out clothes for himself however. He would rather help his daughters choose outfits that Ron noticed were all from clearance racks. When Lily and Jamie were out of earshot in the dressing room, Ron took the opportunity to question Harry.

“Are you planning to explain to them that you are not in fact a woman?”

Harry shifted so there was over an arm’s reach between them before replying, “I technically am considered both sexes, you know. I’ve always been their mum and I wouldn’t know how to go about telling them otherwise. I’ve been Lily longer than I have Harry after all. Besides, it’s hard to find maternity clothes in men’s.”

Ron stopped short when he realized Harry had actually made a joke, but refused to let Harry change the subject so easily, “Mate, you said yourself you identify as male so you’d be lying to not only yourself but your daughters. I understand you had to appease Riddle but that’s no longer an issue.”

“What if I told you I didn’t mind dressing like a woman? Would you think any less of me?” Harry asked despite the admission being obviously painful for the man to make.  
Ron closed the gap between them in two swift strides, enveloping Harry in his arms in a way that was becoming easier with every new embrace.

He confidently said, “It wouldn’t make a bit of difference to me, as long as you were happy. Would you prefer if I call you Lily, then?”

“No, I’ve never really gotten used to that name over the years. I’m Harry, just Harry,” he said with a genuine smile. 

“So what are you going to do about the girls?” Ron lightly reminded.

“I think I’ll sit them down tonight for a chat before we go to bed. They don’t need to know everything that went on between their father and me, but they’re smart so they’ve likely picked up on a lot more than I give them credit for. Lily sees herself as a protector of sorts, always distracting Tom with some silly story to distract him from me,” Harry said. 

Before they could continue their discussion the girls emerged from the dressing room brandishing their favorite items. Ron paid for the clothes and the group moved on to the next store. This time Ron made sure Harry was choosing clothes for himself as well, much to the reticent man’s chagrin. Three stores and nearly four hours later Ron had accrued a small mountain of shopping bags which held a new wardrobe for each of the family members that left a sizable dent in his wallet. Ron wasn’t concerned about that. He was just content to be able to provide whatever he could for Harry and his daughters. That’s why he didn’t give a second thought to taking them to the toy store even when Harry tried to convince him he’d done enough already. Lily’s and Jamie’s faces were priceless as their eyes tried to devour every square inch of the store and its contents. Ron and Harry followed the excited pair at a more sedate pace, conversing about intentionally light topics with Ron doing most of the talking. He was surprised at how easy it was to speak with Harry, almost like they were childhood friends reunited. Ron found himself divulging some rather embarrassing tales from his school days just to elicit laughs from the other man. When Harry subtly enquired about his relationship status, Ron admitted he’d been engaged three years ago to the girl he’d dated in school before she dumped him for a professional football player, Victor Krum, whom she’d apparently been having secret trysts with the entire time they’d been together. Harry was sympathetic, even going so far as to declare the woman was a fool for letting a man like Ron go. Ron had to admit the statement had boosted his ego a fair amount, but nowhere near enough for him to confess that he was bisexual. He wanted Harry to feel comfortable around him and he certainly didn’t want Harry to worry he was thinking about jumping the man’s bones, regardless of the fact that he secretly did want to do precisely that. 

The toy store was a smashing success, each girl now the proud owner of a new doll as well as a plethora of coloring books and coloring utensils. Harry admitted to Ron later during the car ride with the girls asleep in the backseat that Tom was notorious for taking away toys from the girls unless Harry behaved himself. Ron assured him that unless they colored on his walls their toys were safe, garnering another chuckle from Harry. The rest of the drive passed in amicable silence, minus Ron’s off key singing when a song came on he loved. When they arrived home Harry gently shook the girls awake before they followed Ron, who insisted on carrying all of their purchases, up to the flat. Ron deposited the bags in his own bedroom, informing Harry it made more sense for Harry and the girls to sleep there and for him to take the couch. To show his gratitude Harry wanted to cook a lavish dinner but had to suffice with Ron’s meager supplies. It was still the best plate of Bolognese Ron had ever had the pleasure of eating. After that they each took their turn in the restroom to prepare for bed. Ron started to worry when Harry spent over an hour tucking the girls into bed. Harry finally exited the bedroom, face blotchy from crying, and calmly stated that he’d explained to the girls that although he would always be their mum, their father had forced him to lie about the fact that he was a man and his name was not Lily. He said they’d taken it as well as could be expected. Jamie wanted to know when they could go home; at which point Harry had broken down and said they’d never be able to go back to that house. Ron held him as he sobbed himself to sleep, finally able to unload the anguish he’d felt for so many years onto the sturdy shoulder of one Detective Weasley. Ron carried him into the bedroom and deposited his precious cargo next to the young girls, pulling the blankets over them and placing a chaste kiss to all three soft foreheads and turning out the light as he left. 

Harry was up with the sun the next day, still in the habit of servicing Tom first thing in the morning. He had to force himself to stay in the bedroom, busying himself with putting away the clothing Ron had bought them yesterday, which really wasn’t helping him not want to show the man his appreciation. He picked up the room a little, tidying Ron’s shelves and collecting the dirty laundry which he intended to ask where he could wash later. If Ron wasn’t interested in Harry physically he would have to make sure he pleased the man through other means, such as completing household chores. Harry found himself oddly disappointed Ron was straight. He thought he might not have actually minded sex with the ginger, a strange feeling for Harry who had never enjoyed sex with Tom, the only basis he had for a relationship. What a depressing thought that was. Enough time passed that Harry didn’t think Ron would mind if he exited the bedroom to begin breakfast. 

Ron snored on obliviously while Harry cooked, until the smell of blueberry hotcakes wafted into the living room and he picked up on the scent like a bloodhound. Ron stumbled into the kitchen, pajamas rumpled and his hair sticking up in multiple places. 

“Wha’s this, mate? I’ll need a new wardrobe myself if I keep eating your delicious food,” Ron said around a huge yawn.

Harry called for the girls and they shared their third meal together in the living room, the girls each wearing one of their new outfits-matching purple cardigans over white tops, blue jeans, and white ballet flats. After everyone was finished eating, the adults left the girls to color while they went to do the dishes. 

“Tomorrow I’ll be returning to work. I was wondering if you’d like to come with me to meet a friend of mine, she would really like to meet you,” Ron said as Harry handed him a plate to dry. 

“Why would she want to do that?”

“Well, she’s a psychologist Harry and we both think you would benefit from counseling,” Ron said not unkindly. 

Harry was quiet for several minutes, seemingly absorbed in the task of washing dishes, until Ron thought he was going to pretend Ron had never brought up the subject.  
Then he quietly asked, “She wants me to talk about what Tom did to me, right?”

Ron nodded, “That, and perhaps your time with the Doilies-er, Dorsals?”

“Dursleys,” Harry supplied.

“Yes, your relatives. We’re looking for them as well to charge them with child abuse and neglect. Your uncle would likely go to prison for selling you to Riddle.”

Harry shuddered as he said, “And what if I don’t want to go meet your friend? I don’t know if I could talk to her. She’ll think I’m a freak.”

Ron pulled Harry’s hands out of the sudsy water in a firm grasp before saying, “No one thinks you’re a freak, Harry, no one that matters anyway. We’re concerned about you, but if you don’t think you can do it no one will force you.” 

Harry tugged his hands out of Ron’s to swipe away the tears before replying, “What about the girls? Would someone watch them at the police station while I was there?”

Ron grinned, “I know a woman who is great with kids and would love to watch Lily and Jamie while we’re gone.”

“Who’s that?”

“My mum, Molly Weasley.”

The next morning found Ron, Harry, and the girls sharing breakfast with the matronly Mrs. Weasley. Ron had called her the previous night to ask if she was available to babysit, prompting many questions for why her supposedly single son needed childcare. Ron had vaguely explained that he was helping a friend by letting her and her daughters stay with him until she got back on her feet. Molly was anxious to meet this mysterious friend, and Harry did not disappoint. Harry was wearing his new clothes courtesy of Ron—a floral maternity blouse and black stretch pants—which were very fetching on the man but more importantly hid the fact that he wasn’t wholly female. Molly embraced each of her son’s guests in a smothering hug, something they were not used to receiving. She raved about how adorable Lily and Jamie were for several minutes, only pausing to ask Harry how far along she was. 

Harry stuttered, “S-s-six months, ma’am.”

Molly gave the young woman an appraising look, “You’re much too tiny, dear. You need to get some meat on your bones. Ronald, I expect you to ensure this darling girl is well taken care of while she is with you. Your cupboards are probably bare, aren’t they? I think the little ones and I might make a trip to the grocer’s today.”

Harry hid his amused smile at Ron’s flustered expression behind her hand, which didn’t go unnoticed by the older woman. Ron needed a girl to keep him on his toes, if someone were to ask Molly her opinion. Although the young woman clearly had a not so pleasant history, Molly trusted her son’s kind and protective nature would see her through it. Not to mention the Weasley matriarch could hardly contain her excitement at the prospect of grandchildren, even if they weren’t Ron’s biologically. 

“Well, I think you two best be on your way. The little ones and I have some shopping to do,” Molly said as she hustled Ron and Harry toward the door.

Harry kissed his daughters goodbye before a pointed look from Mrs. Weasley had her son scurrying to open the door for his guest with a flourish. Harry flashed Molly a brief smile as he preceded Ron outside. Molly and the girls waved from the doorway until Ron’s car was out of sight. Harry worried at his lower lip the entire ride to the police station and refused to respond to any of Ron’s concerned questions. He was deeply immersed in his spiraling thoughts about the looming meeting with the police psychologist. A sharp kick to his ribs from the baby caused Harry to hiss in pain but it managed to pull him out of his morose thoughts to discover they’d arrived at the precinct. Ron had already gotten out of the automobile and walked around to open Harry’s door. Harry gladly accepted the ginger’s outstretched hand to help lever the pregnant man out of his seat. Ron moved his hand to the small of the other man’s back as he guided Harry into the building. A few officers looked up as Ron entered the station with Harry but none of them spared the pair a second glance. It didn’t surprise Ron in the least. He knew his boss would keep Harry’s past from being leaked. The smaller man had been through enough and deserved his privacy after having none his entire life. 

“So, I’ll take you back to the doc’s office and work on some paperwork while you two are talking. I should be finished in a couple hours and I’ll come find you then, okay?” Ron asked as he ushered Harry toward the back of the building where it was mostly offices and much quieter. 

Harry nodded mutely, wondering what in the world he was going to talk with the psychologist about for two whole hours. Sooner than he would have liked Ron stopped them in front of a nondescript wood door with a name plate that read ‘Ph.D. Luna Lovegood’. Harry immediately felt himself marginally relax from the woman’s name alone. She couldn’t be so bad with a name like Lovegood could she? Ron knocked once before a muffled voice instructed them to enter. Harry kind of tuned out during the introductions, more interested in the office. It was filled with the most bizarrely fascinating items, shelves displaying various unidentified animal parts either in fluid-filled jars or fossilized, newspaper and journal articles framed on the walls, and pictures of the doctor and her family most of which seemed to be taken in exotic locations. Ron bid them farewell with a promise to return for Harry later. Luna, who had approached him at some point without Harry noticing, smiled beatifically as she motioned for him to take a seat on the beige chaise lounge alongside one wall of the room. Harry sat gingerly on the furniture and watched warily as Dr. Lovegood sank into a plush wingback chair adjacent to him. 

“Harry, you seem distracted. Anything in particular on your mind?” she asked.

Harry started to shrug before he remembered how much his relatives and Tom had hated that and settle for shaking his head in the negative. 

Luna tried again, “I want you to feel comfortable here with me Harry. Is there anything I could do to help put you more at ease?”

“Uh, not really, Dr. Lovegood. I don’t think there’s any way to talk about what happened without being uncomfortable,” Harry said, quickly adding on, “ma’am.”

Luna leaned forward, still smiling as she said, “I think we could start by making this a little less formal. Please, feel free to call me Luna. You could even call me Loony Luna, most of my colleagues do, a nickname that carried over from childhood you might have guessed.”

Harry felt the beginnings of a grin forming at the admission, “Alright, I’ll probably just call you Luna, though.”

“Perfect. Now, I’d like to address the misunderstanding you seem to have about what I intend for us to discuss in these sessions. I realize you are likely not ready to divulge any details over your captivity, and that is perfectly understandable. We’ll progress at whatever pace you’re comfortable. I thought today we could start with something easier,” Luna said.

Harry nodded as his eyes strayed to more pictures he hadn’t been able to see from the angle he’d been at when he first entered the room. His gaze was caught on a framed picture of two babies, both with blonde hair and blue eyes—a spitting image of their mother. Of course Luna noticed the object of his attention. 

“Those are my sons, twins, Lorcan and Lysander,” Luna said fondly, “Ron tells me you have two beautiful daughters of your own, and I see you’re expecting another sprog. Would you like to tell me a little bit more about your children?”

Harry finally smiled for the first time in front of the woman, genuinely happy to discuss his daughters, “They’re the best girls a parent could ask for. Sometimes I think they’re the ones taking care of me, especially Lily. She’s quite the little mother hen. And Jamie’s so sweet I just know I’ll have my hands full keeping the blokes away from that one.”

“They sound lovely, Harry. It sounds like they’ve maintained their innocence throughout this whole ordeal. You should be proud of how well you’ve protected them. You’re a good man, Harry,” Luna said.

Harry lowered his head, his words barely a whisper due to emotion, “If I really wanted to protect them I would have gotten them away from that man sooner. A good man would have killed that bastard before-before...”

As Harry trailed off Luna picked up where he’d left off, “Before what Harry? You escaped before he could do anything to them. You saved them.”

“Saved them? I ruined their lives. They’ve been exiled from the world their entire lives. How could they be expected to lead normal lives, with a mother who’s a man and a father who’s a psychopath?” Harry cried before he buried his face in his hands. 

Luna placed a small hand on his shoulder, “I think you underestimate the resilience of children. That’s why I think you will all be fine, even you Harry. You were a child when Riddle took you and have grown into a responsible, respectable adult despite everything you’ve been through.”

Harry murmured, “I don’t think I’ll ever get out of Tom’s clutches. I have nightmares that Tom doesn’t get convicted and comes to find me. Except, part of me almost wishes he would. That part of me thinks how easy it would be to go back to how things were before I betrayed him. Realistically I know he would likely kill me and the girls before he would take us home.”

“I believe you are suffering from something the experts call Stockholm Syndrome. You have developed feelings for your captor regardless of how irrational it may seem. With time these feelings will likely lesson and you will be able to better see what he did to your family for what it was: abuse,” Luna reassured.

Harry realized he had in fact grown attached to Tom and the thought made him physically ill. He lurched from his seat, bile rising in his throat, but Luna calmly supplied him with a rubbish bin that had been inconspicuously placed next to where they were sitting. Harry vomited everything he’d had to eat that morning as well as the night before and once that was gone Harry continued dry heaving for several long minutes. Luna rubbed his spasming back, patiently waiting for him to finish. When Harry was done he could hardly stand to look at her, embarrassed for being so weak. Luna didn’t say a word, she simply offered him a tissue to wipe his face of the multitude of bodily functions residing there and a peppermint. Once he had composed himself Harry shuffled back over to the chaise with a mumbled apology. 

“Nothing to be sorry for, Harry. With two baby boys at home I’m used to dealing with such things. I think we’ve made quite a breakthrough today though. And if I’m not mistaken Detective Weasley should be here shortly,” Luna said.

Before Harry could form a reply there was a brisk knock on the door. Luna raised a brow at Harry and the man hurried to make himself more presentable. When he gave the signal to the doctor that he was ready she called out for whoever was outside the door to enter. Ron slowly eased into the room, his eyes lighting upon Harry almost instantaneously as if drawn to the smaller man. He could clearly recognize Harry had been crying from his blotchy complexion but didn’t comment on it. Luna jotted down a note for Ron of when she would like to meet with Harry again, which would apparently be on Mondays and Wednesdays in the afternoons—Ron’s time off—but the ginger was adamant he didn’t mind chauffeuring Harry to his appointments. The two men quickly exited the police precinct together, Ron’s hand once again resting on the small of Harry’s back in a way that the pregnant man discovered he didn’t mind in the slightest. 

Ron suggested they stop for lunch since his mother had surely already fed the girls. The meal at a local restaurant was uneventful. Ron pointedly did not pry about Harry’s counseling session. A little over an hour later they walked inside the flat only to be assaulted by two jabbering blurs, Lily and Jamie apparently excited to show off the crafts Molly had helped them create. The men were tugged into the living room where over two dozen small wooden blocks stood towering almost to Jamie’s height. Upon closer inspection they realized the blocks had been hand decorated with the letters of the alphabet as well as pictures of balls, shapes, and animals in different colors. Molly exited the kitchen still dusting flour onto her apron, smiling to see the adults had already been shown the girls’ handiwork. 

“They’ve been working on it since we returned from the market,” Molly said.  
“They’re wonderful, girls,” Harry praised.

Lily and Jamie shared matching triumphant grins, “We made them for our baby sister or brother, mum. Molly helped us write notes for the baby to read when it’s older too.”

Molly smiled like a proud grandmother and said, “They are both very proficient readers and spellers. They mentioned a desire to go to school and I would like to offer my services as a teacher.”

“You would be willing to homeschool the girls?” Ron asked.

“Of course, Ronald. If I’m already babysitting its only natural we should do some lessons as well. I think they would benefit from a more personal style of teaching in a familiar, comfortable setting,” Molly reasoned, the implication that the children weren’t ready to be enrolled in an actual school left unsaid. 

“Oh, please, mummy! Can Mrs. Weasley teach us? We’ll be good, we promise!” Jamie begged.

Harry scooped his youngest up to rest on his hip as he said, “As long as she is fine with it I don’t see a problem with it.”

His daughters hugged him in gratitude as Ron thanked his mum. She waved off the thanks and announced that she needed to get back into the kitchen to finish preparing dinner. Harry offered to help but she declined. Ron admitted she might have some competition from ‘Lily’s’ cooking and Harry could see the woman eye her son’s guest with a competitive eye. Beneath that expression, there was an air of approval directed toward Harry. She loved the young woman more with every new piece of information she received. And if the adoring gaze Ron was directing at the woman was anything to judge by, it wouldn’t be long before the Weasley clan gained a few more members. 

Before Harry had realized it two and a half months had passed and he was still living with Ron. The detective had said when he first invited Harry and the girls into his home that he could stay until he got back on his feet. The girls were officially caught up with their schooling thanks to Mrs. Weasley and Harry was still meeting with Luna to come to terms with his past. His pregnancy made it impossible for him to find work, employers not willing to hire someone so close to their due date. Ron was unconcerned, happy to provide for all of them, but Harry couldn’t help but feel like they’d overstayed their welcome. Ron assured him that wasn’t the case however so Harry tried to not let it bother him. Lily and Jamie had never been happier. They’d even made friends with some local children and never tired of playing at the park. Harry was also doing regular checkups with a doctor about the baby, something he’d never done before. The doctor had asked if he wanted to know the sex of the child but Harry didn’t see the point since both of his girls had been a surprise. The doctor was unfazed by his condition, if anything he was impressed by how Harry had successfully delivered two babies without medical aid. 

Ron often accompanied Harry to the checkups, the doctor had even referred to them as a couple on multiple occasions and neither man bothered to correct him so as to avoid unwanted questions about the sprog’s conception. If Harry was honest with himself, he knew he secretly wished Ron was interested in him as a lover. The way Ron made him feel, safe and cared for, was something Harry had never experienced before. He had thought about broaching the topic of sex again, because if he couldn’t have a relationship with the man he didn’t see why the detective couldn’t derive some pleasure from Harry’s body. Harry remembers how adamant Ron had been that he had a choice about who he had sex with now and Harry found himself desperately craving the man’s touch. Yet another sensation he was unfamiliar with. 

Ron himself was going through several changes while Harry’s family was living under his roof. He’d known since he was a teenager that he wanted to be a police officer and he loved his job. He slowly found himself more interested in his guests and caring for their needs to the point that he’d used nearly all of his vacation days—which had accumulated throughout his years on the force since he had no desire for a vacation when there were bad guys to catch—just to spend time with Harry and the girls. They took more shopping trips for baby supplies and toys since Ron planned for Harry to remain until after the baby was born. They also did many things the family had never experienced before like going to the cinema and the circus. Ron had felt his heart literally skip a beat when Jamie had whispered, “Love you daddy,” one night when he was tucking them into bed. He realized at that moment that he loved Harry and wanted more than anything to be a part of the growing family. He was petrified to admit this to Harry, knowing how much the man had been subjected to by Riddle. Ron didn’t want Harry to feel pressured or obligated to be intimate before he was ready. He would protect and support Harry forever as nothing more than a friend if that was what Harry wanted, and he would be happy with only that, but it became harder for him to hide his feelings for the man every day.  
__

It was two weeks before his due date and Ron was freaking out more than Harry most of the time. He had Harry’s hospital bag ready to go by the door, Molly was on speed dial to come watch the girls when it was time, and he was constantly asking if Harry was going into labor at every wince or hiss of pain from the pregnant man. Harry found Ron’s behavior incredibly endearing. He loved all of the attention honestly, from daily foot rubs to demanding Harry let him take care of the household chores. Harry refused to let Ron cook the meals though, after the man managed to burn spaghetti one night. They made quite the domestic pair and Harry would be sad when it ended and he moved out. Ron was obviously smitten with Lily and Jamie as they were equally enamored with him. Even Mrs. Weasley had hinted that she would like if Ron brought the three of them round for a family meal at The Burrow, the countryside cottage where Ron and his siblings had grown up. The idea of meeting Ron’s entire family was more than a little daunting, especially since Harry was still ‘Lily’ to Molly. Ron assured him they didn’t have to go, and wouldn’t risk being so far from the hospital and Harry’s doctor until after the birth. Harry hated to admit how relieved he was that Ron had declined the invitation. It was a good thing he did too, because Harry went into labor almost a fortnight ahead of schedule. They’d been getting ready to leave to go visit the park when Harry felt liquid gush out onto the floor from underneath his maternity sundress. Lily immediately called out for Ron who rushed into the room to see the two children supporting a groaning Harry. Ron quickly scooped Harry into his arms and instructed Lily to ring his mum and Jamie to grab the hospital bag. Once Molly was en route to hospital Ron bundled Harry into the backseat of the car with Lily stroking his long hair and Jamie riding shotgun. 

They made it to hospital in record time, due to Ron using his police lights to clear the streets for them. All the while Harry was in the back, gritting his teeth and resisting the instinctual urge to push. Ron took one hand off the wheel and extended his arm to grasp Harry’s hand in a mutual death-grip. He babbled the whole way, promising it would all be over soon and to just hold on a little longer as he simultaneously cursed London drivers. Miraculously they made it to hospital without dying in a fiery car wreck, where Harry was whisked away to the delivery room with Ron while Molly watched Lily and Jamie in the waiting room. He was in labor for over five hours, the longest by far of any of his children. The doctor and Ron coached him through all the pain, encouraging him to bear down at each excruciating contraction. There was a bit of a scare when the doctor announced the baby wasn’t positioned correctly and feared it would get wrapped up in the cord. The man managed to turn the baby though and at exactly 9:23pm Harry’s third child was brought into the world, with Ron getting the honor of cutting the cord and holding the newborn first. 

“Congratulations, Misters Potter and Weasley, you are the proud parents of a baby boy!” the lead nurse enthused.

Ron’s smile was positively blinding as he stared down at the little sprog that fit perfectly in the crook of his arm. Harry watched dazedly from where he lay recuperating in his hospital bed. He couldn’t recall a more perfect moment than the image Ron made holding his child. 

“Ron,” Harry called out hoarsely to get the ginger’s attention.

“Need something, pet?” Ron asked.

“I just want to thank you for everything you’ve done for me. I know I’ve been a burden, but I’ll be out of your hair as soon as I can find work. Do you think Mrs. Weasley would continue watching the children once I have the funds to pay her?” 

Ron was gob smacked, barely managing to utter, “A burden? Harry, the past couple months I’ve been with you has been the best of my life. Why do you think I’ve been avoiding talking about you leaving? I can’t imagine living without you! I don’t know how I did it before you came along, honestly.”

Harry sighed, “Don’t joke, Ron. I’m new and interesting now but you’ll eventually get tired of the novelty of having a freak for a boyfriend. I-I care about you too much. I don’t have much experience in the matter but I think I love you. I wouldn’t be able to withstand having you only to have it ripped away. I’m not strong enough.”

Ron snorted, “Well, mate, you’re in for a big surprise because I don’t think you’ll ever be able to get rid of me. Harry, I bloody know I love you. I’ve known since I first laid eyes on you.”

Ron approached Harry’s bedside, treading carefully since he was holding the baby who’d already been taken to be cleaned and dressed. He eased down to sit on the edge of the bed, using his free hand to take the hand that didn’t have an IV line in it and pressed a kiss to Harry’s knuckles. His blue eyes became overly bright with unshed tears. Harry smiled dopily up at the detective, motioning for Ron to hand over his son. Once the baby was nestled against his neck, Harry looked back at Ron.

“Are you saying you’re willing to accept me and my children as well as all the inherent baggage that comes with loving us?” he asked seriously. 

Ron nodded, “Yeah, that’s what I’m saying, pet. You don’t have to be alone anymore.”

Harry couldn’t help but recall a day in a park that seemed like a lifetime ago and so surreal he had to wonder if it was really his own memory. At the time he’d thought making do with being a little less lonely because he had a child was all he could hope for. Now he knew he had so much more to look forward to in life, most of all making a life with Ron and his three wonderful children. Regardless of how messed up his life had been and would most likely always be, Harry had a man that loved him unconditionally. 

“Detective Weasley, meet your step-son, Ronald Potter-Weasley Jr.,” Harry said with a grin.

Defying the impossible, the smile that lit up Ron’s face upon hearing those words was even brighter that the one he’d had when he first held Harry’s baby. He leaned down to claim Harry’s mouth in passionate kiss, which the other man eagerly returned. Baby Ron gurgled happily between them as they continued the kiss until the need to breathe broke them apart. As they caught their breath, their foreheads rested together and they stared happily into each other’s eyes, silently communicating all of their love. This was the sight that greeted their visitors several minutes later when Molly ushered Lily and Jamie into the room to see their baby brother. Molly cooed over Ron Jr, ecstatic to learn he shared her youngest son’s name. She nearly fainted when the new couple divulged that the newborn had a condition known as hermaphroditism, which he’d inherited from ‘Lily’ who was actually Harry. Mrs. Weasley didn’t make a big deal about it, accepting it surprisingly well. She merely teased that they should have trusted her enough to tell her sooner and that she was happy to have another son. Then she made them promise that they would come to a celebratory dinner so the Weasleys could be properly introduced to Harry and the children. Not long after that Luna came in to congratulate Harry, pushing her own twins in a buggy. 

As Harry observed all of the important people in his life mingle and converse, he knew Ron had been right when he said he wasn’t alone anymore. Riddle would pay for what he did to Harry, but the young man couldn’t bring himself to be angry at his captor any longer. It wasn’t due to any misplaced lingering attachment either. In fact he hadn’t thought of Tom Riddle in a while because he was so happy to be with Ron. But he wasn’t angry with him because without the man kidnapping him he would have never had his three incredible kids and he would have never met Ron Weasley, the love of his life. 

“The doctor said we can go home tomorrow morning,” Ron said as he held Harry in his arms in the hospital bed, “Although, it won’t be home for long. We’re going to need to find a bigger place so the girls can have their own rooms and a nursery for Ronnie.” 

Harry kissed Ron before replying, “Your flat is fine with me. Home is wherever I’m with you.”


End file.
